


i'll be your wound

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: Hux is somewhat hot to the touch, but more interesting is the way he gasps when Poe touches him. His hands relax and almost reach for Poe before he settles them firmly in his lap; his breathing becomes labored and he leans his head against the wall, exposing the long line of his neck, the way the flush spreads under his undone uniform collar.Hux gets sex pollened, Poe – helps.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 19
Kudos: 98





	i'll be your wound

**Author's Note:**

> Goes AU during TROS, after Finn shoots Hux.
> 
> Mind the tags. Contains consent issues inherent to the sex pollen/fuck or die tropes.
> 
> I handwaved some things for ~~porn~~ plot reasons, so some suspension of disbelief might be necessary. I’m only here for the porn with repressed feelings.

They put Hux in the bunk room when they take him. His leg’s in pretty bad shape so, much to his chagrin, they have Chewie carry him there.

Poe heads to the cockpit intent on leaving First Order territory as quickly as possible, leaving Hux briefly by himself. Once they enter hyperspace he leaves Finn and Chewie behind deciding that injure or no injure it’s not smart to leave General Hux (formerly, he supposes) of the First Order unsupervised for long.

He doesn’t seem to be conscious when Poe approaches, lying down in the bunk, his breathing even. He tenses when Poe moves closer.

“Hey Hugs, how are we doing?” Poe says.

“We,” Hux replies, putting an annoyed emphasis on the word, “are slowly bleeding to death in this disgusting metal deathtrap.”

“Hey, only half of that is my fault,” Poe says, reaching for the medkit. “The preferable part, I’d say,” he adds when he gets a closer look at Hux’s leg.

Hux tenses when Poe reaches for him and actually tries to get away, which gives Poe the weird urge to soothe him, to comfort him.

Poe kneels down in front of Hux and even though he’s careful to telegraph his movements Hux still flinches when he touches his ankle.

“Uhm, I need to get a closer look at your blaster wound. I can cut off your pants or you can, uh” he pauses, feeling suddenly flustered, “y’know, take ‘em off?”

Hux clenches his jaw and coldly bites out, “Didn’t know you were a nurse too, Dameron.”

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents,” Poe grins and adds, “unfortunately nursing is not one of them, but it’ll have to do until we reach the base. So, how about it?”

Hux flushes a pretty deep shade of red when he reaches for his belt and Poe looks away, calculating in his head how long they have until they reach the Resistance base.

He struggles to get his pants past his hips and Poe unthinkingly reaches for him, “Here, let me –”

 _”No,”_ Hux says, almost kicking Poe with his good leg. “Don’t touch me.”

Poe backs off, while Hux strains to get his pants off, in a pretty undignified manner, if Poe says so himself.

Poe’s careful when he reaches for him this time. Sliding down his pants the rest of the way, mindful of his injury.

He still must manage to accidentally graze his wound, because he hears Hux suck in a shocked breath, like a gasp.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, looking up at Hux and seeing him flushed, breathing heavily, from pain or exertion and biting his lip hard. It’s that detail more than anything that sticks in Poe’s mind and he finds himself helplessly staring at Hux while two, three whole seconds go by.

“Get on with it already,” Hux snaps at him and once again attempts to kick him. It succeeds in snapping Poe out of his weird reverie, at least.

“I’m getting to it. Some politeness wouldn’t go remiss, y’know?”

“Oh, yes thank you for shooting me, kidnapping me and taking me to my certain death. How would you like me to express my gratitude?” Hux sneers down at him.

“A simple ‘thank you’ will do,” Poe says, touching his knee to keep his leg in place.

Poe cleans the wound, applies bacta and bandages it as quickly as he can, not wanting Hux to lose any more blood. Hux stays unnaturally still through out the whole thing, not making a sound. When Poe looks up Hux is staring at him intently and biting his lip, but looks away immediately as to avoid eye contact.

 _Man, the First Order does a number on these guys,_ Poe thinks.

Poe stands up, feeling uncomfortable and wrong footed for no real reason and says, “All done. Good as new,” with fake cheerfulness.

Hux says nothing when Poe tells him he’ll check on him later and Poe backs toward the door, wanting desperately to put some distance between them.

“Everything okay?” Finn asks when he returns to the cockpit.

“Yep, all good,” Poe says, with an oppressive feeling that he’s lying.

When he returns a couple hours later to check in on Hux, he finds him shaking.

Before Poe can ask him what’s wrong he says, “don’t come any closer.”

“Fine,” Poe says easily. “You want me to get Finn or Chewie in here?”

“Just – keep your distance.”

Poe rolls his eyes, but once he gets closer he can see the situation’s not good. Hux is trembling, yes, but he’s also sweaty, his hair’s in disarray, he’s flushed and his pupils are blown wide.

 _He’s got a fever,_ Poe thinks and touches his forehead to confirm.

Hux is somewhat hot to the touch, but more interesting is the way he gasps when Poe makes contact. His hands, tightly closed into fists at his side, relax and almost reach for Poe before he settles them firmly in his lap; his breathing becomes labored and he leans his head against the wall, exposing the long line of his neck, the way the flush spreads under his undone uniform collar.

Poe swallows and looks away, saying, “you’ve got a fever, probably from the blaster wound, but don’t worry we’ll reach the base in – no time and doctor Kalonia will get you some proper treatment.”

Hux keeps staring at the ceiling and Poe feels compelled to add, “it’ll be fine.” Though he doesn’t know who he’s trying to reassure.

Hux has gotten his breathing somewhat under control and he barks a laugh, saying, “it's not a fever. Just leave.”

“Wait, hold up, what do you mean it’s not a fever? Did you do this?” Poe says, thinking back to all the opportunities Hux had to take something. They didn’t even properly search him. _We didn’t have time. I wasn’t thinking of him as a prisoner_ , he thinks, trying to justify his own stupidity.

When Hux doesn’t reply he says, “look, I know you don’t want to go to the Resistance base, but you were as good as dead staying with the Order. Worse, if Kylo Ren got his hands on you. If you took something – Just, look, you’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be safe. You don’t have to kill yourself.” Not his most inspiring speech, but it’ll have to do.

“You’re an idiot, Dameron. I didn’t ‘take something’ and I’m not trying to kill myself,” Hux says, rolling his eyes.

“Okayyy,” Poe says slowly, going to sit next to Hux in the bunk. “But if y—”

“Get away from me,” Hux practically screams, scrambling to put some space between them.

Poe put his hands up and says, “hey hey, I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? But I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Hux settles back down on the bunk, hunched in on himself, his arms crossed. He stares at him for a long moment, nothing short of murder in his eyes, before clenching his jaw, looking somewhere over Poe’s shoulder and saying, “it’s – I need – sexual stimulation.”

“What?” Poe says unintelligently. Of all the things he thought would come out of Hux’s mouth that one did not make the list.

“It happened,” Hux continues, “when you — touched me. I don’t know... but I have seen the symptoms before.”

“The symptoms?” Poe asks, but he can see where Hux is going with this.

Hux straightens himself and points at his lap, still not making eye contact.

“Weeell, Hugs, you wouldn’t be the first. I tend to have that effect on people,” Poe jokes, but there’s something nagging at him.

“Get out,” Hux says.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And Poe gets it, “wait, what do you mean you’ve seen this before?”

Hux stares at him as if it’s obvious, and it is, isn’t it?

“The Order—?” but he’s suddenly so angry he can’t even finish the sentence. He clenches his fists and goes to stand by the wall. “So, what happens, then? You die? This thing, it kills you?”

“Eventually, if I… don’t —” Hux stops himself. He meets Poe’s eyes and quickly looks away before deliberately looking straight at Poe. “In the meantime, I’ll do and say just about anything to – to get –”

“Right,” Poe interrupts, not wanting to hear how he’s gonna finish that sentence.

Poe looks at him, _really_ looks at him and the guy looks miserable. Poe actually believes him (why would he lie about _that?_ ) and wants to comfort him somehow. Of course he goes and ruins it by saying:

“So congratulations, soon enough you’ll get all the First Order intel out of me that you want.”

“Fuck you,” Poe says without thinking.

“And that too,” Hux replies, but there’s not a note of playfulness in his voice.

Poe turns his back on him to leave, angry. Thinking _Fuck this guy for thinking the Resistance is as morally bankrupt as the First Order. The resistance would never –_ and he turns around and asks, “how long? How long do you have until this thing kills you?”

“A few hours. Better make the most of it,” Hux says, fidgeting with the collar of his tunic.

“Shut the fuck up,” Poe snaps. “Can’t you,” he pauses, sighing and looking in the direction of the cockpit, “take care of it yourself?”

But he’s not surprised when Hux bites out, “obviously not.”

 _“Fuck._ What do you want?” Poe asks and Hux looks at him with such shocked betrayal that Poe takes a step back.

Hux clenches his jaw, his fists and takes a deep breath before replying, “to rule the galaxy.”

“Hey buddy, it’s your life,” Poe says, shrugging. But he knows it’s not that simple. For one, he’s not willing to let Hux die.

“You know what I want,” Hux says from behind gritted teeth. “Do you want to hear me say it? Do you want me to beg? Fine. I want –” but he stops, opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock. I want you to bend me over and put —”

“Okay, okay. Got it,” Poe says, cutting him off.

The worst part is that Hux no longer sounds angry and confrontational, just resigned and matter-of-fact when he says, “what do you want for it?”

“What?”

“I said, what do you want for it?” Hux replies calmly, but he’s restless. Keeps fidgeting with his sleeves, drumming his fingers against his bare thighs, which has the unfortunate side effect of making Poe keenly aware that they’ve been having this conversation while Hux is in his underwear.

“I already turned traitor once,” he continues. “So what do you want in exchange for – wouldn’t want to sully your virtue for nothing, right?”

“Nothing! It’s not like that. I’m not – I’m not First Order.”

“What are you waiting for, then?”

Poe takes a deep breath and steps closer. “Look, are you – I mean, do you –?”

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Hux says. “I do not want any part of this, I just prefer it to dying.”

“Do you want me to call Finn here instead?” Poe says, somewhat desperately. Though he doesn’t think he could do that to Finn. “I can –”

“ _No._ Just – Just get in here. Please.” Hux bites out the last word as if it were physically painful for him to say it.

“Okay,” Poe sighs and goes to sit next to Hux. He carefully places a hand high on the inside of Hux’s bare thigh. Hux tenses and sucks in a startled breath but stays put, doesn’t say a thing.

“Can you unzip your –?” Poe asks, motioning to Hux’s tunic.

Hux glares at him, but does it with shaky fingers. He unfastens it the whole way through but keeps it on.

“I’m going to –” Poe starts, only to be interrupted by Hux saying, “You can do whatever you want,” and immediately looking like he regrets it.

Hearing that makes Poe pause. Makes him go hot and cold all over, but he’s not enough of an asshole to make Hux repeat himself or ask him about what _he_ wants. It’s not like that between them.

Poe brushes the back of his hand against Hux’s erection and quickly gets his hand inside Hux’s underwear, before he loses his nerve.

Hux is hot and hard in his hand. Painfully so, Poe imagines. He keeps his grip loose at first, getting used to the shape of him, before gripping him more tightly. He pumps his hand up and down, squeezes the base, nothing fancy. All in all, he can’t remember a least arousing occasion in which he’s held a dick in his hand.

 _It’s not meant to be hot,_ he reminds himself, when he turns to look at Hux. Hux is tense all over, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched. He looks like he’s in pain and Poe has the horrible thought that maybe he’s _causing_ it. Maybe he’s making things worse.

He goes to pull his hand away and says, “look, I don’t –”

“Harder,” Hux almost whispers. He lifts his hand as if to cover Poe’s before reconsidering at the last moment and putting it down to grip the edge of the bunk.

Poe fists one hand tight around Hux’s cock and he lifts his hips, rises to meet Poe’s hand, leans his head against the wall and pants open-mouthed.

It’s a mesmerizing sight and it’s a long moment before Poe remembers to look away.

“Like that?” he asks.

“Yes, yes, like that,” Hux says, breathless.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me,” Poe says unthinkingly. He’s not trying to talk dirty to him but Hux moans low and says, “yes, come on, don’t stop. Just like that.”

Hux bites his lip when he comes and doesn’t make a sound, but he looks completely fucked out.

“So that’s it? You’re good?” he asks, dreading the answer.

Hux is looking anywhere but at him when he says, “No, not even close.”

“Okay then, again?”

“Yes,” Hux sighs, defeated.

Poe pulls back for air, squeezes Hux’s cock with one hand and his thigh with the other. He thinks about pushing Hux back and lying down between his legs on the bunk. The floor is killing his knees.

Hux starts fidgeting, flexes his fingers like he wants to reach for Poe. “Fuck. Please,” he says.

Poe goes back down, swallowing around his cock. When he looks up they make eye contact and Hux swallows visibly before looking away.

Poe sucks hard, takes him deep, hums and moans around his dick. Not because he enjoys this (though he does, with a willing partner) but because he wants to hurry Hux along. Hopes tenth time’s the charm.

Hux’s hand lands on his shoulder and pushes a little, but Poe stays put. He doesn’t know if they still have wipes and this way’s cleaner.

He closes his eyes when Hux starts coming down his throat and he doesn’t imagine he’s with anyone else.

“Come on. Come here,” Hux says.

He looks completely debauched and even though Poe currently has his hands on him, he longs to touch him.

Hux positions him standing in front of him and unzips his flight suit before Poe has time to react. He pauses, hesitating, looking uncertain for a second, before he grabs Poe’s dick and swallows it all down, lets it hit the back of his throat.

Poe can feel himself flush hot, shock and arousal feeding off each other.

He touches Hux’s cheek, cards his fingers through his hair, not pulling. Hux moans around him enthusiastically. Gropes Poe’s chest and his ass and looks up at him from under his eyelashes when he pulls at his hips, encouraging Poe to fuck his mouth. He swallows him down again and doesn’t use his hands, showing off. He looks like he can’t get enough. He’s focused on the task and Poe is very close to coming when Hux abruptly pulls off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s enough,” he says. He turns over on the bunk, careful of his injury, gets on his hands and knees and looks over at Poe. “You can fuck me now.”

“Fuck.”

Hux is gripping the mattress tightly, head hung low, breathing harshly. He keeps chasing Poe’s body, his touch, rubbing his ass against Poe’s dick, rutting his hips against the mattress before he remembers himself and stills his body, clearly on edge.

“Come on. Come on,” he says under his breath.

Poe fingers him a while longer, but he’s feeling pretty tired, desperate and harried, to be honest.

“Stop fucking around. Get the fuck on with it,” Hux snaps.

He grabs Hux’s hips with slippery fingers, takes a deep breath and says, “okay, okay, here we go.”

He goes slow and steady – doesn’t rush it, doesn’t slam into Hux the way his body desperately wants him to, but he doesn’t pause until he’s all the way in. By then, Hux is shuddering, panting loudly.

Hux reaches back and grabs his thigh, keeps him unmoving.

“ _Fuck_ ”, he says softly.

“You okay?” Poe asks.

Hux is not big on feedback. His back is tense and he’s hiding his face in the mattress. He’s hard, but in his condition that doesn’t mean anything.

“Hey, talk to me. Please?” Poe says. He’s using all his willpower to stay still.

“Come on. Move. I want to feel it. I want to feel all of you,” Hux says, releasing his thigh.

It’s the best thing Poe’s heard in a long time. He draws back and pushes forward, leaning against Hux’s back, panting against his spine. He pulls Hux’s head back, kisses his neck. He bites him and then sucks hard on that same spot. Hux is moaning loudly, saying “don’t stop” over and over again.

Hux tightens his muscles around him and Poe groans, digging his fingertips into Hux’s hips hard enough to bruise.

“Your cock is perfect. It’s perfect for this,” Hux says. He is flushed, breathlessly panting, his pupils dilated, his lip bitten red. He looks hot for it. _He’s not_ , Poe tells himself. _It’s the drug in his system._

Poe needs to get it together. He tries to slow down, tries to angle his thrusts to hit Hux’s prostate, focuses on getting him off. He needs to keep reminding himself that it’s not about what he wants or needs. Hux is biting the inside of his wrist to stop himself from making a sound now and Poe wants nothing more than to hear him.

“Harder. _Harder._ Come on, make me take it,” Hux says.

Poe doesn’t need more encouragement. He snaps his hips forward and Hux pushes back, meeting each of his thrusts.

When Hux goes to touch his own cock, Poe stops him. “Here, let me –”

“Fuck. Yes. Touch me,” Hux says.

Poe almost slips out of him when Hux topples forward on the mattress after coming for the twelfth (thirteenth?) time. He goes to properly pull out, but Hux walks back on his knees and keeps him in place.

“Keep going. I want you to come inside me,” he says.

Poe pulls him against his chest until he’s practically in his lap. “Hey, if you’re not done after this, do you wanna switch? You wanna fuck me?” Poe says.

“ _Yes._ ”

*

Afterwards Hux is lying on top of Poe, panting against his neck, come cooling between them.

“It’s over,” Hux says, pushing himself off of him. He can feel it, this weird newfound calm that’s taken over his body, while his head keeps loudly buzzing.

“What?” Dameron asks, evidently too fucked out to try to make sense of simple sentences right now.

“It’s finally out of my system. I don’t need to – anymore,” Hux says.

“Oh, that’s – good. Great,” Dameron says slowly. He opens his mouth a couple of times, like he wants to say something more, but whatever it is Hux is not interested and turns his back to him to start collecting his clothes.

His hands start shaking when he tries to zip up his tunic, and his wound throbs when he tries to pull his trousers back on. He grits his teeth against the pain and goes to sit by the bunk, waiting for Dameron to leave to finish righting his clothes. He has humiliated himself in front of Dameron enough for a lifetime.

After he gets dressed Dameron lingers, fiddling with his hair. Hux is briefly transfixed by the sight of Dameron finger-combing his own hair. He looks away quickly when Dameron looks his way, feeling exposed, caught out. _Just lingering side effects,_ he tells himself, _nothing more._

“Yes? Was there something you needed?” Hux asks after Dameron doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

“I just wanna know if you’re okay, man,” he says.

Hux scoffs, looking away, feeling the buzzing in his head intensify. “Is this your version of ‘was it good for you too,’ Dameron?”

“No,” he simply says. When Hux looks at him, he can tell he’s angry, offended. Good. Why should it be only Hux who gets to feel like that?

“I’m fine,” Hux says in a steady, factual tone. He wants Dameron to leave, wants to put as much distance as he can between them.

Dameron opens his mouth a couple of times, but eventually just says, “okay. Okay, I’ll come get you when we reach the base. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Like what?” Hux snaps, feeling himself flush an unattractive shade of red. His face is warm, but his hands feel cold.

“I don’t know, man. Like anything,” Dameron says.

When Hux just ignores him, he leaves. Hux counts his steps and breathes.

Hux sees Dameron around the base sometimes. He’s not technically a prisoner, but he’s also not a guest or _obviously_ a member of the Resistance. He’s only allowed to be out with a small group of armed guards at his back (“for everyone’s safety”) and sometimes he can almost pretend they’re his guards and he’s back on a Star Destroyer. Can almost pretend he’s still General Hux, someone who woke up each cycle and knew exactly what to do, who had no control over his life but knew exactly how to project the image that he did.

Dameron’s always laughing and animatedly talking with his rebel friends. He doesn’t know if Dameron told them about – what happened. Maybe he finds it contemptible or discreditable, but they wouldn’t hold it against him, wouldn’t think any less of him. Or maybe he told them and they all got some enjoyment out of imagining the great General Hux brought so low.

Dameron tries to catch his eye a couple of times, seems like he wants to call out to him, but Hux has nothing to say to him and has no interest in hearing what Dameron wants to say.

Unfortunately Dameron comes to visit him in his room. Hux should have expected it but it makes him feel inexplicably betrayed that Dameron would choose to corner him like this.

His usual guards are standing outside his door, but they don’t bat an eye at Dameron’s visit. No door is closed and no room is off-limits to General Poe Dameron, of course.

“Heya Hugs,” he says obnoxiously, leaning against the door when Hux opens it.

He’s smiling what he no doubt considers his most charming smile, all perfect teeth and warm eyes. “Can I come in?” he asks.

Hux steps aside and asks, “What do you want?”

“Can’t I come visit my favorite newest Resistance member?” Dameron says.

Every word out of his mouth just serves to irritate Hux further. He scoffs before saying, “In your dreams.”

“Wouldn’t be a very interesting dream to have about you,” Dameron says. He seems to realize what he said just a second too late. He winces and clears his throat, uncharacteristically graceless.

“Just wanted to check up on you. See how you were doing. How you’re feeling about your hearing,” Dameron says, suddenly serious, earnest.

That’s the other fun thing happening in Hux’s life. While the _new_ New Republic took death and life imprisonment off the board in exchange for information, he still has to appear in front of a judge and plead his case. He’s lucky to be getting off easy and he knows it.

“I’m good. I’m looking forward to it,” he says.

Dameron stares at him for a long, uncomfortable moment but only says, “Right, right. I – I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve just been busy –”

“Being a galaxy hero. I get it,” Hux says.

Dameron ignores him and says, “I just wasn’t sure – I wanted to give you some space.”

“How considerate of you,” Hux says, wanting nothing more than to put a stop to this conversation. He’s not here to make Dameron feel better about himself. He can go to his millions of admirers for that.

“I keep thinking about the way we left things,” he continues, undeterred. “I just wanna make sure –”

“Dameron, I appreciate your concern as much as I appreciate your self-control,” Hux says coldly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you weren’t so worried about my wellbeing when you were fucking me silly, were you?” Hux says, properly angry now.

Dameron reels back as if slapped. “Yes, I was. You told me you’d die if you didn’t –” he says desperately. “You were begging me to –”

“I was out of my mind. I didn’t want it and I didn’t enjoy it,” Hux says.

“I know that. It wasn’t fun for me either,” Dameron says.

“I seem to recall you enjoying yourself,” Hux says. “But hey, at least one of us had a good time.”

Dameron turns back towards the door, before changing his mind and facing Hux again.

“What happened was not my fault,” he says, pointing a finger at Hux. “I’m not the one who develops rape drugs to torture people. That’s you, you and your First Order buddies.”

“So I had it coming. Got it,” Hux says, wanting to smash Dameron’s handsome face against a very hard surface.

“ _No_ , that’s not what I said,” Dameron stops, sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Dameron, I don’t –”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Dameron says earnestly. “I’m sorry I joined the list of people who’ve hurt you. No matter what, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m not –” Hux starts to protest, but Dameron cuts him off.

“Let me finish,” he says. “But mostly I‘m sorry it happened to you at all. I’m sorry I can’t make it so that it never happened. I get that you don’t wanna talk to me or even look at me. I don’t wanna look at myself and I’m pretty vain.”

He sighs, dejected, and says, “I’m not gonna bother you, okay? And what happened, that has no bearing on our professional relationship. On your hearing.”

“So you’re not gonna testify about how desperate I get for cock?” Hux says, wanting irrationally, to provoke him. To make him as angry and frustrated as Hux feels.

“That’s not –”

“How great I am at sucking dick? How I just can’t get enough –” Hux continues.

“You have a very high opinion of your skills, buddy,” Poe says and immediately looks like he wants to take it back. “Fuck,” he says. “Hux, I don’t think of you that way. I don’t see you and –” He visibly swallows and looks away, balls his hands into fists.

For one absurd moment Hux thinks that Dameron must have the Force or that Ren is somewhere in the vicinity, because he gets that same suffocating feeling he got from being forced-choked. His body goes cold and numb, he starts sweating at his temples. He feels trapped. He wants Dameron gone.

“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. You can hate me and that’s fine, but if you need something –” Dameron says.

“Don’t worry. There won’t be a repeat performance,” Hux bites out.

“Okay, okay.”

After a couple of seconds, Hux is finally, blessedly alone.

He doesn’t know what would be worse: to have Dameron think of him as that desperate, begging, out of control mess or to have Dameron just brush it off. Truly, how could Poe Dameron, hero of the galaxy, be into something like that? Why wouldn’t Dameron just completely forget about it? Even when Hux can’t seem to put it out of his mind, like a bruise he can’t stop poking.

He can’t believe that he acted like that, that he debased himself like that. That he begged for Dameron’s touch, that he _enjoyed_ his touch, that he craved it. That he still does.

But Dameron must be used to it. Must be used to fucking men and women crazy. To give them the kind of expert, enthusiastic fucking that leaves them wanting more – that makes them abandon all sense of respectability and propriety.

All those pathetic fools just wanting a second chance with Poe Dameron.

Hux slides his hand inside his pants and _remembers_. In these moments he focuses on Dameron. His steady hands; his warm mouth; his – his cock, big and hard in Hux’s hand, in his mouth, unrelenting in its pressure inside of him, pushing the air out of his lungs as it filled him. Poe’s passionate and enthusiastic touch unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Hux closes his eyes and lets go.

It’s a few days later when Hux leaves his guards behind and sits down next to Dameron, within touching distance. By now he’s figured out the guards aren’t actively looking for an excuse to shoot him and they’re definitely not going to do it in front of _General Dameron_ , as they breathlessly call him.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, just gets right to the point.

“I said some – things that were, perhaps, not – entirely accurate,” Hux says. He practiced what he wanted to say the way he used to practice his speeches.

Dameron turns to look at him, giving him his full attention. He’s tense and he looks terrible, dark circles under his eyes, obviously exhausted. Hux struggles to look away.

When he doesn’t say anything Hux continues, “I know you didn’t manipulate the circumstances for your own enjoyment. I know you only – got involved because it was a life and death situation. None of it is your fault.”

It’s easier to have this conversation while not looking at Dameron. He looks up towards the sky and feels the heat crawling under his skin.

“None of it was your fault either,” Dameron says. “I’m sorry it –”

“Don’t. I’m glad you were there,” Hux says, squinting against the sun.

“I’m – glad I could – help,” he says slowly, almost a question.

“No,” Hux says, standing up to leave. “I’m glad it was you.”

 _That_ is what he’s being struggling to put into words, to even admit to himself and finally verbalizing it leaves him raw and aching.

“Fancy running into you here,” Dameron says when Hux opens the door.

Hux rolls his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

Hux thinks about it for a moment, choosing to torture himself by staring at Dameron’s pleasing features.

Once inside Dameron seems unsure about what to say, looking anywhere but at Hux and carding his fingers through his hair. Hux crosses his arms tightly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.

“So?” Hux prompts.

“Right,” Dameron says. “What you said the last time, about how –”

 _Fuck, this is painful,_ Hux thinks, ignoring what Dameron is saying and focusing instead on the way his mouth is shaped around the words.

“Hux?” Dameron asks, looking concerned.

Hux uncrosses his arms, closes the distance between them and drops to his knees.

“Whoa, hey, you don’t –” Dameron starts, reaching towards him.

Hux bats his hands away and unzips him. Dameron tries to step back out of his reach and Hux pulls him closer by the belt and says, “Stay fucking still.”

When Dameron stops, Hux opens his trousers and leans forward. He breathes harshly and open-mouthed against Poe’s half-hard dick and he _wants_.

He shudders when Poe places a hand on his shoulder, touches his neck underneath the collar of his shirt.

“Hey,” he says, trying to get Hux to look up.

“Just let me,” Hux says. He can’t believe he’s going to beg again, only this time he’ll have nothing to hide behind, nothing to blame it on.

But Poe doesn’t make him beg for it, he just says, “are you –?”

“I’m sure”

“Okay, but I was going to ask if you’re under the influence of some mind-altering substance.”

Hux laughs, humorlessly. “No, it’s just me.”

Poe looks like he wants to protest, wants to keep talking but Hux is not interested in his moral dilemma.

Hux doesn’t bother stifling his moan when he gets his mouth around the head of Poe’s dick. It’s not like Poe doesn’t know how into this he is already. He bobs his head up and down but doesn’t bother setting a rhythm. He keeps his mouth loose, makes it wet and sloppy.

The truth is Poe’s probably gotten a dozen more skilled blowjobs in the past few weeks, but he still groans, says “sorry, sorry” when he snaps his hips forward. Hux doesn’t mind, though. He wants all of it. Anything Poe wants to give him. He can’t get enough.

“Hey, you can – pull off. I’m gonna –” Poe says.

Hux grips his hips tight enough to bruise and stays where he is.

He swallows and rests his forehead against Poe’s thigh, panting and painfully hard.

“C’mere,” Poe says.

Hux stands up, ready for whatever’s going to come out of Dameron’s mouth next. He touches Hux’s neck and slowly, slowly pulls him down.

“Hey,” Poe says against his lips.

Poe’s mouth is soft and warm, careful. He’s a good kisser, Hux decides. He tilts his head, their lips coming together and apart, over and over again. When Poe draws back, they’re both out of breath, but Hux still chases his lips, helplessly.

“What do you want? Tell me,” Poe says quietly, like a secret between them.

Hux stares at him and starts to pull away. Something curls in his stomach at the idea that Dameron wants him to _say it_.

Dameron reaches for Hux and says reassuringly, “hey, it’s just me,” which further rankles him. Dameron looks away and bites his lip and Hux briefly considers giving in and stroking the man’s ego, but Dameron starts talking again.

“I can’t read your mind,” he says, looking back at Hux. “You wouldn’t like me if I were a mind-reader.” An obvious attempt at levity.

When Hux doesn’t budge, he sighs and steps back.

“Okay, I’ll go first. I didn’t come here for – that. I don’t expect you to –” Poe stops, tugs at his own hair, clearly frustrated. “I don’t want you to do things you don’t want to do when you’re around me.”

“Like being forced to have this conversation?”

“Maybe. I don’t think I know what you want and what you don’t want. I like you, but if you don’t want that, I get it. Just tell me. I have been rejected before,” he finishes playfully.

Hux latches onto that, not wanting to engage with anything else Poe said. “Have you really?” he asks.

“True story. It’s hard to believe, I know,” Poe says, smiling tentatively.

“Can we fuck now?” Hux says, not feeling ready to hear another one of Poe’s earnest monologues. “Things I want, right? That certainly qualifies.”

Hux turns Poe around, facing the door. Poe’s trousers are still conveniently unfastened and he helps Hux push them past his knees, saying, “yeah, come on, come on.”

Hux takes himself out of his pants, sighing with relief when he gets a slippery-slick hand around himself. He pulls Poe’s cheeks apart and gets his dick to slide between them, thrusting once, twice. Poe plants his hands against the door and pushes back against him until they’ve built a rhythm together. Hux buries his fingers in Poe’s hair and pulls, feeling desperate for it.

“I want to give you what you want,” Poe says, panting. “Let me give it to you. Tell me I can.”

Hux moans, snapping his hips faster. “I just want you. In any way I can have you,” Hux says, intertwining his fingers with Poe’s against the door.

They’re outside, walking side by side, still a respectable distance between them. Poe occasionally bumps his shoulder against Hux’s. Hux is sans guards, at Poe’s insistence.

“I feel like we did this way backwards,” Poe says. “So, uhm, do you want to go for a ride in my X-Wing sometime?”

“Is that a euphemism?” Hux asks. Not that it matters, the answer is yes either way.

Poe laughs, almost surprised and smiles at Hux, big and bright and unfairly attractive.

“Yes,” Hux says, staring at the distance. He feels warm all over. He’ll never get used to this fucking climate. “We could do that.”

He reaches out briefly to touch Poe’s hand for no more than a couple of seconds and thinks about all the things they could do.


End file.
